The Simplicity of a Name
by Mrs. Elizabeth Gibbs
Summary: The bar is dark, mirroring his thoughts. He doesn't want to remember- and saying those three syllables just might break him. DEmily, one-shot, tag to 7x1 'It Takes A Village'.


A/N: So, this is my first foray into the Criminal Minds fandom, and first time writing DEmily. I have a little bit of a hard time with how quickly Derek seemed to forget his anger after 7x1 'It Takes A Village', because I just felt it was a little too fast. So, this takes place after episode 7x1.

I know this is wicked late. I've just been scouring tumblr and they had such wonderful pictures to inspire me. I couldn't help myself :)

"_It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend." -Henry Ward Beecher_

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Criminal Minds.

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><p>The bar was darkened when Derek walked into it, his hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets, his eyes scanning for anyone that might recognize him. His dark eyes surveyed the room, full of people, all pressed together in the confined space of the room.<p>

Satisfied that he didn't know anyone he sat at the counter, ordering a beer to warm up for his round of drinking. The Heineken was cold in his hand and heavy on his throat, and he swallowed a large drink, savoring the ripple it sent down his esophagus.

The first bottle of beer was followed by a second one, and when he took his third one he handed his keys to the bartender.

He wasn't even going to pretend that he was close to the end of his drinking.

He finished the third Heineken and then ordered a shot of Patron; maybe going a little bit stronger with his alcohol would help him forget the ache in the center of his chest.

The tequila burned on its way down, and he swallowed, blinking his eyes as the alcohol warmed his belly.

His head felt a little lighter and the weight in the center of his chest lessened only slightly. He raised his hand slightly to the bartender, requesting another one, and with a nod from the man behind the counter a small shot glass full of tequila in front of him. Derek reached out a hand to grasp the glass when a petite, feminine hand got it first, pulling it out of his reach.

He turned to look at who had stolen his drink when he was met with the thick brunette locks and large, dark eyes of Emily Prentiss- the woman he'd been trying to avoid.

"That's my drink," he said in way of greeting, his face unreadable as he nodded his head towards the shot glass in her hand.

"I'll buy you another," she replied before tilting her head back and downing the alcohol. She shuddered slightly at the Patron as it slid down her throat, and set the shot glass down heavily on the counter. "Strong stuff, Derek. Trying to forget something?"

"More like trying not to remember," he said in reply, making the corners of her mouth turn downwards as sadness tinged her beautiful eyes, and he looked back at the bartender, signaling for another shot. Emily got a shot of vodka, and together they took their shots, both relishing the burn- though for different reasons.

"Derek," she started, her voice soft, and barely reaching his ears in the loud bar. "Can we please talk?"

He swallowed, not looking at her.

"Not much to say," he replied, shrugging. "You left, now you're back. End of story."

"Derek," she said, shaking her head as she looked at him, her heart breaking behind her eyes. "It's so much more than that."

Derek kept his eyes on the empty shot glasses, standing next to each other on the bar counter, a few drops of liquid inside of them. He could practically feel her breathing beside him, and he clenched his fist tighter.

"Please, Derek," she whispered, and his resolve broke at the desperation in her voice. He cleared his throat, standing. Receiving his keys from the bartender and handing them to Emily he followed her out of the bar, keeping some distance, his hands shoved deeply into his pockets as he stared at the ground while walking.

She was waiting just outside the door, the cool evening air blowing her hair back so that her pale neck was exposed, her pulse racing under her skin. Derek broke off the train of thought that led him to, shaking his head slightly as he left the cool air push away some of the effect of the alcohol.

"How about I drive you home?" she asked, turning and looking at him, hesitant. He nodded once, curtly, and led her to his car, getting in the passenger side.

The ride was mostly silent; Emily tried to make small talk and Derek sufficiently shut her down with his silent treatment. Eventually she stopped, pulling up to Derek's apartment and getting out, clearing her throat as she grasped his keys.

"Please talk to me, Derek," she said, looking at him with brown eyes colored with desperation and sadness. "I need my best friend back- I need you to do what you need to do. Yell, scream, rant. I just want you back."

"I've wanted you back for months!" Derek replied, his voice rising slightly as he looked at her, pain in his dark eyes. "I thought you were dead- I watched you die right in front of me, and I couldn't do a damn thing. And now you're back, just like that, after months of everyone trying to get over the fact that you were dead."

"Derek, this isn't about everyone else," Emily said, looking at him with those big eyes that always took his breath away. "This is about you."

"Prentiss, you're back, and I'm glad you're not dead," Derek said, trying to get the issue to drop. But he couldn't say her first name- he couldn't get the three syllables past his lips, no matter how hard he tried. And the words he spoke sounded hollow and fake, forced in nature, because they were.

Emily stood silently, her arms folded over her chest and her eyes searching his face.

"Say my name, Derek."

"Prentiss," he said after a moment, his mouth and throat dry as he stood on the sidewalk in the middle of the night, Emily watching him.

"Not that name, Derek," she said, shaking her head. "My name- the one you use."

He swallowed, looking away. His chest burned, pain and anger and loss bubbling the surface as he relived those months without her. Those months of nightmares, and thinking he'd seen her on the sidewalk, or hearing her voice when he was completely alone.

He didn't know if he could say her name without the other three words that needed to follow it.

He looked at her, hands shaking slightly. He parted his lips, wetting them slightly with his tongue. He cleared his throat and stood up straighter, meeting her solid, dark eyes as he opened his mouth further, the sounds warming up in his throat. He pushed the three syllables together, and by some miracle, they left his mouth, burning his lips on the way out.

"Emily," he said, but the sound was hoarse, raw- bitter. Her eyes flooded with tears and she stepped forward, looking for some way to comfort him, but she didn't know what was acceptable to do.

But by saying her name aloud it was like something was lifted from him- the anger, the resentment, the hostility. Her friend, her partner- _her__Derek_- was back; but she still didn't know what kind of comfort he'd accept.

He solved the problem for her by pulling her closer by the waist, one hand threading into her soft brunette hair, the other wrapped around her middle as he tugged her against him. She melted into his embrace, one arm around his waist while the other rested on his neck, her face buried into his shoulder. She turned her head and pressed her nose into his neck, breathing him in all over again as he hugged her tightly.

"I missed you, Em," he whispered into her hair, voice still hoarse. She pressed closer, their body heats mingling as the air continued to cool around them.

"I missed you more," she whispered in reply, tears dropping from her eyes and leaving burning trails of regret down his skin. He turned his head and kissed her temple, eyes closing as he reminded himself to not take any moment with her for granted.

He pulled back slightly so that he could cup her cheeks, tilting her head up so that he could look into her eyes as he spoke. Making sure she was listening first, he started.

"I already lost you once, Em," he said, and she shivered at the nickname. "I don't want it to happen again."

"I don't want it to happen again either," she whispered, covering his hands with her own. He leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together, his nose brushing hers.

Her eyes opened and met his, and a spark shivered in the air between them- something electric and alive, waiting to be unleashed.

"I want to kiss you, Emily," he said quietly, and she swallowed. He watched the elegant line of her neck move as she did so, and was inexplicably turned on by the action.

"Then kiss me," she replied, looking at him with wide eyes as she waited.

She didn't have to wait long- his lips were on hers moments later, savoring the softness that encased her mouth. He tasted like alcohol, but underneath was purely Derek, and she didn't think she'd ever get enough.

When they broke for air she looked up at him, her lips curving up in the corners.

"I thought about a kiss like this the entire time I was in Paris," she said softly, her hands resting comfortably on his chest. He held her close, kissing her forehead.

"I thought about a kiss like this since I laid eyes on you," he replied just as quietly, and she bit her lip, tilting her head slightly to look at him better.

"I'm glad we were thinking the same thing," she whispered, and he grinned that grinned she'd wanted to see since she saw him again. "I missed that grin."

"I missed you, Em," he said, pressing his forehead into hers again. "I missed you a lot."

"You don't have to miss me anymore," she replied, kissing the corner of his mouth. "I'm not going anywhere, Derek. Not without you."

"Good," he said simply, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Wanna come in? I've got beer."

"I think I'm looking for some dessert, actually," Emily said, pulling away so that only her hand was linked with his. "Got any chocolate?"

"Funny you should say that- I do, actually, in my room…"

Her laughter filled the moonlit street as they walked towards the apartment.


End file.
